**The Forgotten Birthday Card**
Elizabeth Bennett returned home in a somber mood.
“Hello! Fancy some dinner?” her husband William greeted her with a smile in the hallway.
“Did you actually cook? You never step foot in the kitchen,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, it’s your birthday today,” William said cheerfully. “You shouldn’t be stuck at the stove on a day like this.”
Elizabeth sank onto the hallway stool and, without warning, burst into tears.
“Lizzie, what’s wrong?” William asked, alarmed.
“She didn’t say a word… Not even a proper wish…” Elizabeth whispered between sobs.
“Who? Who didn’t?” William was baffled. He couldn’t understand what had upset his wife on what should have been a happy day.
Elizabeth’s mood had been low since morning. Today, she turned sixty. They hadn’t planned a big celebration—just something quiet. Still, her colleagues at work had insisted on cake, toasts, and well-wishes. By evening, she was exhausted, longing for peace and a moment alone.
Later, her sister Margaret rang.
“So, did you have a nice day?” she asked.
“Oh, the usual. Work did a little something. William bought flowers and booked us a week in Cornwall for summer,” Elizabeth answered flatly.
“That’s lovely! At our age, we deserve a treat. And the kids? Is James still offshore?”
“Yes, another month on the rig. He called this morning and sent a lovely orchid in a pot later.”
“What about your daughter-in-law? She lives just down the road—did she stop by?”
“Not even a text…” Elizabeth sighed bitterly. “After all we’ve done for them, she couldn’t even send a card.”
“Really?” Margaret huffed. “I’ve two daughters-in-law, and they’ve never pulled that. Nothing at all?”
Just before eleven, Elizabeth’s phone buzzed. A message. A generic e-card from the internet—”Happy Birthday.” No personal note. No call. Just a forwarded image.
“That’s her idea of a birthday wish,” Elizabeth muttered to William before bed. “Convenient, isn’t it? She still lives in the house we gave them, no strings attached.”
“Come now, don’t take it so hard,” William soothed. “Kids these days just fire off a quick message and think that’s enough.”
“No, Will. It’s not enough. It’s thoughtless. A milestone like this isn’t just another date. It matters—and little things say a lot.”
The next morning, Elizabeth’s resentment had only deepened. She replayed yesterday’s slights in her mind, magnifying every detail until fresh tears pricked her eyes. William saw her distress but could do little. He even phoned their son.
“Mum’s upset again,” James sighed. “Is this about Lucy?”
“I’m not upset,” Elizabeth cut in, snatching the phone. “I just find it strange that someone who lives a five-minute walk away couldn’t be bothered to call. Tell your wife—I remember things. Even birthdays.”
“Mum, she’s swamped with work—”
“Rubbish!” Elizabeth scoffed. “She had time to send a generic e-card but not two kind words? How thoughtful.”
Later, James confronted Lucy.
“I completely forgot,” she admitted. “Work was a nightmare, and by the time I got home, I was knackered. I just shot off something quick. Thought I’d pop ’round with a gift this weekend.”
“Too late now,” James muttered. “Mum’s hurt. And she won’t forget it.”
Come Saturday, Lucy was swamped again. Sunday, she opted to relax. By evening, she’d brushed it off.
“Oh well,” she told James. “We’ll visit next time. It’s not the end of the world.”
But Elizabeth was unmoved.
“Spare me your obligatory visits,” she said coldly when James mentioned it. “A kind word would’ve meant something on the day. Now it’s just hollow.”
“So… you don’t want us to come?”
“No,” Elizabeth said sharply. “I don’t need spectators. I need respect. And if that’s too much, don’t bother pretending.”
Lucy didn’t think she’d done anything terrible. Still, she knew her mother-in-law needed handling. So when Elizabeth and William’s anniversary rolled around, she insisted on visiting with a gift.
“We’ll say we wanted to wait so we could celebrate together,” she told James, grinning. “Time to smooth things over.”
Elizabeth opened the door.
“Well, look who remembered,” she remarked dryly. “Managed to find the time for our anniversary?”
“Mum, come off it,” James sighed. “We haven’t forgotten you. Life just gets hectic.”
Lucy smiled warmly, helped set the table, cleared dishes, and chatted amiably. Then, casually, she dropped:
“We’re thinking of redecorating the hall. You’ve got such an eye for these things—fancy helping us pick wallpaper?”
“Of course!” Elizabeth beamed.
On the way home, James squinted.
“Since when are we redecorating?”
“We’re not,” Lucy chuckled. “But if she feels useful, she might let go of that grudge.”
It worked. A week later, Elizabeth was telling her neighbor how the young ones couldn’t even choose wallpaper without her guidance. The bitterness had faded—for now. But at the first misstep, it might all flare up again.
*Sometimes, what mends a rift isn’t an apology, but the simple act of making someone feel valued.*
